Doing a Number 2
by ARandomAuthor14
Summary: He really shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a Noah after all; reincarnation was inevitable. Just not a hundred years later into the future with a letter addressed to his exact location…In a public bathroom. Set in Marauders' Era.
1. I: Mortem

_**~DGMxHP AU~**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: He really shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a Noah after all; reincarnation was inevitable…Just not a hundred years later into the future, with a letter addressed to his exact location…In a public bathroom. Set in Marauders' Era.**_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: DON'T MURDER ME. I KNOW I HAVEN'T COMPLETED A SIGNLE STORY. BUT I SWEAR, I WILL COMMIT TO THIS ONE. ESPECIALLY WHEN 'MCHOE69' (my editor that I pay with food) IS GOING TO BE 'ENCOURAGING' ME.**_

* * *

 **oOoOoOo**

 **~Chapter One~**

 **oOoOoOo**

 _December, 18XX Age 16, Whereabouts: Black Order_

He stared at the man _(could he even be considered human?)_ under him, sword plunged directly at its core, leaving a bloody mess of black pooling underneath. Oddly enough, the corners of the man's mouth lifted ever so slightly with blood dripping at each corner. The act enraged the entire nerve of his being, to see the man who'd ruthlessly murdered his friends simply smile at death and _unintentionally,_ he futilely pressed harder against something that was already dead.

Those lifeless eyes glinted for a brief second with something unreadable. Then nothing. What seemed to be over had only left a shiver down his spine.

"It's over," he whispered to himself, collapsing on his knees he'd barely had time to register his own damage.

Wearily, he looked up at the dark sky. Then, with barely any warning or so much of a last thought, he exhaled his last breath.

On December, 18XX the Holy War had ended, Allen Walker's life had ended;

And so did the Fourteenth's.

 _December, 19XX, Whereabouts: Unknown_

December 19XX marked the birth of Louis and Emilia Walker's first born child. After nine months of carrying a watermelon in her stomach, a scream that could rival a banshee's, and a rather blood-deprived hand, an infant was released to this world.

They named him _Allen Walker_.

 _December, 19XX Age 6 Months, Whereabouts: London, Walker Residence_

He was six months when he said his first word, "Red."

After a month of insistent coaxing and the absolute horror he had been exposed to _(baby talk)_ , he'd managed to scrounge up the motor skills to move his infant mouth. While it had appeased them, he couldn't help but giggle at their dumbfounded expressions after their persistent, 'say mummy' and 'No! Say daddy!' squabble, only to be ignored as their son gurgled a colour _(which he so eagerly pointed to for emphasis)_.

He was six months when he finally accepted his rebirth.

He wasn't as stupid as to believe that these six months were just petty dreams created by his childhood-deprived self, it had only taken him this long to fully accept it because it meant that everyone he had previously loved had died...And that was something that was difficult to accept.

He had cried every night leading until now, cradling his left arm as if it was going to disappear like his Innocence did _(in more ways than one)_. Sometimes, which he felt guilty for, he cried as loud as he could, practically screaming. There wasn't a trigger for it, no horrible nightmares, just frustration at something he couldn't stop, and sadness at something that had passed.

He was six months when he finally noticed the bags under his parents' eyes.

From then on, he took note of how warm they felt, how familiar they felt, how gentle they were and how much they'd coo softly in his ear when everything felt so unbearable. For once in his life he felt the love of a parent, and he'd clutched on as tightly as he could.

He barely cried, and while his parents had initially been worried at his sudden quietness, they'd settled when he began to laugh more instead.

He was six months when he began to crawl.

After long, drawn out months of determined attempts to climb out of the crib, his parents took it upon themselves to baby-proof everything in that room. Which, however, didn't last very long as Allen soon grew bored of his confinement, and would often stack whatever he could to reach the door handle and positively sneak out when his parents weren't looking.

 _February, 19XX Age 14 Months, Whereabouts: London, Park_

While their child had not been overly fussy, he had been very active and would often hobble as fast as he could to just about anywhere.

This was Allen's first time in a park _(both before and now)_ he had darted from swing to slide, would hurriedly climb up the rock-climbing wall, and hobble underneath it all. His father would often have a hard time keeping up through all the nooks and crannies, and his mother would watch from afar, giggling at the sight of a man struggling to keep in check his fourteen-month child.

It had been exhilarating to him, moving fast without the worry of someone else's life on the line. He had felt free and he wanted it to last for as long as it could, if not forever.

 _April, 19XX Age 5, Whereabouts: London_

It was when he was five years old that Allen experienced his first case of accidental magic.

It was his first day at school, a place he'd never been before, where he was tormented for his hair. Though it wouldn't have affected him to be bullied by _children,_ _(which he was mentally older than)_ they targeted something that hurt more than it should've.

"None of your parents have white hair!"

"Are they even your real parents?"

He couldn't restrain himself at the moment, couldn't see clearly. All he knew, was that it hurt because his hair was something that carried much more meaning that only he'd understand. That sheer white hair of his...a _reminder_ of a parent that had cursed him to see the souls of those who suffered. He didn't have his scar anymore, but he couldn't forget every time he looked in the mirror.

In anger he sent the kids skidding across the concrete. Not too far and not for too long, but it had done the damage. Blood stained the palms of their hands, their knees, and while the memory was hazy, he could remember the fear-stricken expressions and the blood dripping down their cheeks as they ran away screaming and crying that he was a freak; a _monster_.

And those words struck home more than it should.

A reminder of his past upbringing on the streets.

When his parents were informed of the incident, they took it upon themselves to move. Not in fear of their son repeating his actions, but more so of him being targeted. In a few weeks they would be moving into a smaller city by the name of Cokeworth.

 _("What happened?" They asked him._

" _I don't know...They just flew back.")_

 _June 19XX Age 9, Whereabouts: Cokeworth_

While he had been disappointed with the new area, he had begrudgingly grew accustomed to it. The air always seemed so suffocating to him, however he didn't complain. The scenery was more familiar to him, but the continuous pipes emitting smoke that ran for miles, reminded him of that final battle in which hordes of level ones-

"Are you okay?" A soft voice resounded from above him.

He had been sitting down by tall grass, trying to escape the industrial scene of the town when suddenly someone called out for him. Looking above, slightly blinded by the light, he caught sight of red and black.

"A-Ah, yeah, I'm fine." Shaken out of his stupor, he stood and dusted himself off.

The girl stood at his height along with the boy beside her. Her green eyes were most welcoming and they shone with a brightness like no other.

"I'm Lily Evans," she smiled, "and this is Severus Snape." She gestured to the boy in ill-fitting clothes that were so mismatched it looked deliberate.

Allen didn't miss the small flinch when their eyes met contact with each other.

He smiled gently, well aware that the other in front of him was uncomfortable by his presence, and he wondered if this was 'their spot' _(as he heard children say)_.

"Sorry for disturbing, I'll…" He was stopped when Lily invited him to sit with them.

While they only chatted about small things, the atmosphere felt a little less uncomfortable and he found it easier to breathe.

 _("You haven't told us your name yet."_

 _That was the first thing the boy said to him._

" _O-Oh...sorry, I'm Allen Walker.")_

 _August, 19XX Age 10, Whereabouts: Cokeworth_

While Allen rarely visited the two in their usual spot, he was always comfortable when he did. It was on his way to their usual place that he encountered someone that he'd find out to be Petunia Evans, Lily's older sister.

"What kind of clothes are you wearing?"

"Why don't you get ones that actually fit, you-"

"Petunia! Stop-"

"And what? You freak-"

"Could you stop?" His voice was brutally sharp as it pierced through the argument like a knife.

Three heads swiftly turned to him, and the brown-haired girl who'd acted so tough and menacing, withered at his narrowed eyes which elicited an unintentional dangerous spark. She stuttered for a moment, before dashing away with a scowl.

Snape whispered a small thanks, which Allen heard and gave a bright smile in return.

 _(He wondered how Allen could've heard it, they weren't exactly close, Lily was closer yet she heard nothing.)_

 _July, 19XX Age 11, Whereabouts: Cokeworth_

It was a Saturday that Allen woke up to visit Lily and Snape. Preparing himself, he had a quick meal comprised of toast and milk. His parents were out for work, and would be coming back by the time he and the others caught up. Cleaning up his dishes and stashing away the bottle of milk he set off.

 _Milk - Expiration Date: XX July 19XX._

He didn't even last half an hour until he had to sprint to the closest bathroom, which of course was the most wretched place he'd ever been to, but couldn't care less at the moment when he felt his bowels twist and turn.

In the few minutes of feeling like utter death, something flickered into view from an open window of the public bathroom. It was beige with a red seal plastered onto it, and before he knew it, it smacked itself right into his face.

He clambered in his spot to try to catch whatever it'd been.

 _Mr. A. Walker._

 _The Public Bathroom,  
X, XXXX,_

 _Cokeworth_

It was in that moment that he really shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a Noah after all; reincarnation was inevitable...just not a hundred years later into the future, with a letter addressed to his exact location…In a _public bathroom_.

He was at a loss for words.

 _(He looked back down at the toilet paper dispenser…_

 _Only to find it empty.)_

 _July, 19XX Age 11, Whereabouts: Cokeworth, Walker Residence_

He came home disturbed and argued to himself whether to explain to his parents about what had happened, he had half a mind to keep it to himself as he was plagued with the thoughts of abandonment at his difference, that his past would just repeat itself again and he'd lose _everything_ he'd gained- _however,_ with one look at his parents he'd quickly laid down all his defenses and told them everything.

He remembered the pause between his parents, the stern expressions, the thin lips-

"A-Are you going to... _abandon me_?" His voice quickly died with a sob caught at his throat.

He'd only remembered tight arms around him, it was that familiar warmth and everything was drowned out. He couldn't remember if they'd said something to him, they sounded too distant but he felt safe, he wanted to stay, he couldn't bear to leave them, he doubted his heart could take it again.

He can't remember how long he cried that day.

.

.

.

It was then that he found out that his father was a wizard that married a 'muggle'. That he'd traded his magical roots to be with his mother, and they wanted to provide him with a normal life away from magic _(not that they had anything against it)_.

His shoulders had felt significantly lighter.

It was also at this time, that he found out that Lily and Snape were also going to 'Hogwarts', and he couldn't help but feel relieved when he learnt of this.

He wouldn't be going alone.

 **oOoOoOo**

 **Omake:**

He handed the Hogwarts letter to his father, not entirely understanding what it had said.

"Where's...The envelope?"

"..."

"I lost it."

"..."

"NATURE FUCKING CALLED ALRIGHT" "FUCKIn HOe" "MY BOWELS WERE EMPTIED" "FUcken Ell IM LIKE 11 LET ME TAKE A SHIt OLD MAN"

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed and don't flag me for all these curses. (Or I'll Avada your ass)**_


	2. II: Novus

_**~DGMxHP AU~**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: He really shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a Noah after all; reincarnation was inevitable…Just not a hundred years later into the future, with a letter addressed to his exact location…In a public bathroom. Set in Marauders' Era.**_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: THIS TOOK A WHILE TO UPLOAD BUT I SWEAR I WON'T FORGET ABOUT THIS. MY EDITOR MCHOE SLACKED. TOTALLY NOT ME. HAHA.**_

* * *

 **oOoOoOo**

 **~Chapter Two~**

 **oOoOoOo**

 _August 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Diagon Alley_

Allen is still amazed at how he got there.

He was up early in the morning doing his light exercise routine _(there was nothing wrong with practising a good habit from his past life)_ , when his father burst through the door sputtering something about 'getting a wand' and 'floo powder'. Either way, the shock made him topple over his handstand and land (dare he say it) hard on his butt.

"Oh," his father grew sheepish, "sorry."

Which led him to where he was, yelling out 'Diagon Alley', throwing a bit of powder, and bam, experiencing the oddest sensation of being thrown before landing on an unfamiliar pavement, with unfamiliar people and their unfamiliar attire. The streets were lined up with humble-looking shops of similar sizes, but somehow radiating an individual uniqueness that cannot be mimicked by others. People filled the pavement, moving from shop to shop with ridiculous energy and smiles that gave the entire setting a bit of warmth and welcome.

"Where-"

"I know, it's amazing." His father suddenly appeared behind him, grinning in all his glory.

 _August 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Diagon Alley, Madam Malkin's Robes_

It was ridiculously uncomfortable to be standing on a stool with his arms spread out for a long period of time as items floated and moved on its own, measuring him from his head to toe.

"Your son's very small," the woman said with a smile, "it's really adorable."

Allen grimaced.

"I know, that's what we keep telling him." His father humoured.

He needed out.

 _August 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Diagon Alley, Flourish and Blotts_

Books.

The things that had always lined the shelves of the science department in the Black Order. The things he's touched but never read because, well he couldn't for the most part. However, now it was a different case. While he knew he'd never be the bookworm that Lavi was, it wouldn't hurt to touch up on the little knowledge he has on magic and the foreign world that he'd be thrown into in a month's time.

 _August 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Diagon Alley, Eeylops Owl Emporium_

His father got him a Snowy Owl and grinned.

"Look," he gently held up a white feather, "you match."

Allen was a good kid though, and so he managed to _not_ roll his eyes.

 _(He did however, smile at his owl._

" _What should I call you?" He gently stroked its feathers as it crooned softly._

" _Hm...C.C?")_

 _August 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Diagon Alley, Ollivanders_

Allen was slightly sceptical about having to wave a wand around, not that he doubted it'd cast a spell, he's seen that way too many times to even deny the fact. However, he was used to waving a _sword_ around, and a wand just felt like the stick it was in comparison.

"Wand arm?" The old man asked.

"Uh," he started intelligently, "I'm...ambidextrous?"

His father gave him a surprised look before muttering something along the lines of 'really? since when?' and 'why can't I be ambidextrous?'.

"Pick a hand you're most comfortable with."

"Right."

Then the man measured his arm before scrambling to the back and returning with a box. He held the wand and gave 'it a flick'. The window behind them shattered.

Allen winced.

It took thirteen tries, oddly enough, before he got his wand.

"Try this, ebony wood with a horned serpent horn as its core. Nice and flexible…"

He did, gave it a small swish and a wisp of white flittered through to the air before vanishing. It felt _amazing_ and somehow he had heard a small tone, it wasn't too high or too low, but he had heard something pleasant.

"Horned serpent horn," Ollivander murmured, "unfortunately extinct in Western Europe...only few individuals are known to have wielded such."

 _("My boy, if your wand emits a low tune, it is warning you of danger."_

 _Allen stared at the other._

" _Thank you.")_

 _September 1, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: King's Cross Station, London_

There was something almost nostalgic about the tall structures in front of him. The way puffs of smoke would flitter before simply vanishing, and the occasional whistling of a train signaling its departure, and to some unfortunate individuals, the prospect that they would miss their ride. The station was _swarming_ with people, all hurriedly rushing towards their dedicated stations, some even awkwardly sprinting with all sorts of luggage hanging off their person.

Something built up in his chest, and breathing out a sigh did not seem to relieve that.

It felt incredibly foreign to him, to be walking down such a familiar setting without the need to rush. To think that he'd be there _not_ off on a mission, _not_ having to worry about an unexpected attack, and most importantly, _not_ having to jump and land on top a moving train.

The sound of rolling wheels came to an abrupt clatter, snapping him out of his stupor.

"Uneven flooring…" His father muttered, eyes quickly scanning whether any of the luggage had fallen off.

"Allen!" An all too familiar voice called out, and his head perked up at the sound.

Just a few metres ahead was Lily Evans, and a bright smile blossomed on his pale face. With a few small, quick exchanges of pleasantries between their parents, Lily turned to Allen.

"You should have seen Severus," she started, "he ran _through_ the wall!"

Allen stared disbelievingly, "Is that even-" he stopped himself there because, _of course_. Magic.

Her green eyes sparkled with absolute joy.

"We need to try it."

"Of course we'll try it, how else do you think we'll get through?"

Lily waved his remark off.

It was an odd experience, and if Allen had to describe it, it would be the feeling of slight resistance; as if he'd just ran through a thin layer of rubber instead of hard bricks. The view on the other side, however, was blinding. He was met with a train which gleamed against the bright light that poured through a high-domed ceiling with crowded families ushering and bidding their children good lucks and farewells.

The two rushed forward, taking in their experience and the scenery before them, their parents pushing their carts behind them in equal, gaping wonder.

"This is amazing…" Lily mumbled to herself before catching the eye of Snape.

She grinned at him, giving a thumbs up, and Allen swore he saw the faintest hint of a smile on the boy's face.

Quickly returning to their parents to grab their carts and board the train, Lily faced Petunia who seemed to recollect herself, however, in a way where a sneer permanently etched it's way on her features. Her voice resounded atop her parents who were conversing with the Walkers.

"You're a freak!" She screeched.

"You-What is wrong with you?!" Lily answered back, clearly outraged at the fact her sister decided to pull this attitude again.

"All this...This ' _magic'_ , only freaks can do it-"

The siblings continued to argue, shoulders shaking in fury at each other, Allen was afraid things would grow violent. Instead, their parents had easily held them back, doing their best to resolve the situation. Hot angry tears made their way on both their faces which were slightly flushed in frustration.

Allen looked back to see Snape concerned, but quickly gave him a signal that it'd be alright. The other nodded, before boarding the train.

"Lily…" Allen started, but it seemed the girl didn't want to speak, so he remained silent.

Instead, they trudged silently together with their carts.

After their luggage was whisked away by a worker, they boarded the train, managing to find Snape who was waiting for them. By this point, Lily had calmed down, although if one looked closely, her eyes were slightly red.

Sitting down at an empty compartment, purple orbs flickered to the window. He saw his parents waving at him and he hesitantly waved back with a small smile. He watched them leave too, and for some reason, his heart uncomfortably ached with each passing beat.

Then the compartment door swung open.

"Is it okay if we sit here? I'm James Potter and this is my friend, Sirius Black." At the door were two males looking the same age as the rest.

"Sure," Allen said, manoeuvering over to sit next to Snape who was in between himself and Lily.

It started off pleasant, well at least for himself, Snape looked slightly miffed about the whole situation. They fell into easy conversation, that is until they began talking about the Hogwarts Houses. It didn't surprise Allen as much as it did Lily, after all, he had a wizard for a father who garbled on and on about the place (even managed to scrounge up some old books in their attic, and do some light reading on the books they'd bought at Diagon Alley).

"'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad. Got a problem with that?" James proudly announced.

"No. If you'd rather be brawny instead of brainy —"

"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" Sirius, James' proclaimed best friend, interrupted Snape.

"Watch it," Lily snapped, annoyed about the whole situation.

Things escalated from there, heated arguments but Allen hadn't stepped in _(he would not get heated over something as petty as house rivalry, he was_ _ **double**_ _their age for crying out loud)_ , instead groaning to himself. He watched as Lily dragged Snape out of the compartment, probably headed off to another to cool down.

"Well, aren't you going as well and comfort _Snivellus_?" James bitterly snapped at Allen who'd done nothing but sit.

"No," the answer startled the two, " _Snape_ was initially at fault. _Initially_."

Sirius grumbled, "so you're saying that if he had shut his mouth then-"

"Essentially, yes. However that does not mean we are on friendly terms, nor does it mean I will tolerate hearing insults about my friend."

It was silent from there.

When a shadow of a figure stopped at their compartment, Allen stood up to check who it was. It was a lady with a tray of sweets who had been going around asking if any of the students would want any. Paying for his share, he quickly sat down. When he opened a wrapper, a chocolate frog _leapt_ out, causing a 'what the bloody hell' and a 'why'd you open it like that' to be yelled.

So this existed.

After the enchantments on the snacks wore off, Allen spared a look at the two. He wasn't one to share food but-their stomachs rumbled.

"Ok, what do you want?"

They eagerly shared the sweets and fell into small conversation, though Allen was more reluctant considering that they did hurt his friends. Robes were changed and eventually, Allen was about to go look for Lily and Snape.

"Hey," Allen turned to the direction of the voice, "you're not that bad."

He smiled at James, "Thanks, but _don't_ you dare attack Snape."

 _September 1, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Hogwarts_

It was night by the time they arrived on Hogwarts grounds. Boats were all lined up on a lake which first years would need to take up to the castle. He had regrouped with Snape and Lily, though they seemed to be slightly bitter about Allen's lack of participation _(he didn't blame them)_.

"So...sharing a boat?" He asked awkwardly.

"That's a given." Snape remarked, ignoring the beaming other.

The boats were enchanted to move on their own, and soon enough, past the darkened trees, the school was in view. It was astonishing to see, the castle had been lit up so brightly it looked like a beacon in the dark. Lily positively brightened at the sight, gushing excited praises about it to the two.

"It's so amazing, aren't you excited?!"

"Yes, Lily. You've said that at least twenty times already." She ignored them.

"But it's just so…" She drifted off.

"What? _Amazing_?" Allen snorted.

Lily huffed, though she was thoroughly amused.

Pulling up to shore, they were led to the halls of the castle. The walls were littered with paintings and odd designs, the floors were a rich colour, and the ceiling was so far up Allen couldn't tell where it ended.

Then they reached a pair of great oak doors.

.

.

.

"Evans, Lily!"

There was a silence.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Allen watched as Lily headed off to the table of Gryffindors who cheered and shouted, their voices thundering throughout the Great Hall. He also watched as Snape went up, the hat sinking and covering his eyes.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Then after a long wait, it was his turn.

"Walker, Allen!"

He strode up the stairs, took a seat on the stool, and a weight was pressed against his head.

" _My, my, what's this?"_ Allen blinked.

" _A past life? Don't worry, this information won't be shared. Now let's see…"_

" _Self-sacrificing, heroic,"_ It hummed, " _you're very cunning, however."_

" _Interesting.. Yes, this is the house for you, it's best if you were put in…"_

 **oOoOoOo**

 **Author's Note: END. Yes I left you at a cliffhanger, fight me.**

 **Editor's Note: I am dooooneee. Basically, work on description so that things seem less rushed and straightfoward. Mchoe out.**


	3. III: Discite

_**~DGMxHP AU~**_

* * *

 _ **Summary: He really shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a Noah after all; reincarnation was inevitable…Just not a hundred years later into the future, with a letter addressed to his exact location…In a public bathroom. Set in Marauders' Era.**_

* * *

 **Author's Note: Forgot about this, someone needs to invest in this AU.**

* * *

 **oOoOoOo**

 **~Chapter Three~**

 **oOoOoOo**

 _September 2, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: ?_

When Allen woke up he was met with blinding light feeling pleasantly warm on his pale skin. Soft material draped over his figure as he laid on a comfortable surface that dipped slightly to his weight. Pale violet eyes stared at the ceiling above, stone bricks lined with rich honey-coloured wood.

He sighed softly, mind awake, but body unmoving _(he wanted to take his time)_ , and took in his surroundings without a single thought.

After a short stretch, he rolled over to his side. Peeking over his pillows he looked at the silver clock that rested on an ebony side table, the hands pointing at _5:00_.

'Good,' he mused as he reluctantly pulled the covers off himself.

Raking his toes through the carpet, he stood and got ready for the day. His classmates were still drifting in their sleep as he silently maneuvered through the male dormitories. The round door led to the common room, and despite the lack of people, it still radiated something cosy.

The round windows filtered in yellow light which made the entire room glow with warmth. Tendrils of ferns and ivies hung from the ceiling, pouring over the copper-coloured pots _(some so long it would gently ruffle the tops of heads)_. Small wooden tables and chairs were of abundance, green couches and small bookshelves lined the walls...and then his eyes followed the wooden carvings of badgers on the mantelpiece. Above it was a large moving portrait of a woman smiling. Her eyes falling shut as she smiled and gave a toast with her students.

Helga Hufflepuff.

 _September 1, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Great Hall_

" _Self-sacrificing, heroic,"_ It hummed, " _you're very cunning, however."_

" _Interesting.. Yes, this is the house for you, it's best if you were put in…"_

" _HUFFLEPUFF!"_

 _When the hat was taken off him, the sounds, which previously were drowned out, cleared. The loud cheers filled the expansive room, bouncing off the walls and the occasional recognisable cheer above all others._

 _He grinned as he stood from the stool, quickly thanking the Hat and the professor, before hurriedly stepping down the stairs and to his respective table. On his way he briefly made eye contact with Lily and Snape and gave them a large grin._

 _He didn't miss the disappointed (but not surprised) look the latter gave._

 _September 2, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Outside the Castle_

The air was slightly chilly as it nipped at his skin. He wasn't wearing his robes, knowing full well that he would be sweating. At first he wanted to jog laps around the quidditch pitch, when he realised that he had no idea _how_ to get there, so he decided he'd instead do laps around the school.

That is, until he got lost.

"This is _pathetic_ ," he whined.

Small beads of sweat rolled down his cheeks and neck as he slightly panted. He was oh-so pathetically lost and unsure of the time. But from the lack of students, he decided it was still early. He continued to wander until he saw a small cabin in the distance, and a figure moving about inside. Eyes sparkling in relief, he made a bee-line towards the cabin.

"Excuse me?" He called out.

The figure inside peeked through the open window, "Oh, just a second!"

' _C'mere Fang! Oh no you don't, ya big silly oaf-'_ The clattering continued and the heavy thumps on the floors came to an abrupt halt. A thump louder than the rest resounded, accompanied with a painful 'ouch'.

"Are you okay?" Allen asked in concern.

"Yes, yes, I'm okay, don' worry abou' me." And then the door swung open.

"Firs' year?" Allen nodded, "come in, come in."

The hut was generous in size. A fireplace flickered in front of a table, as pots and pans and many other miscellaneous items decorated the walls and shelves of the humble abode. A fairly large dog looked up at him with beady eyes, before circling around his legs.

Allen smiled as he patted the creature.

"Tha's Fang, big ol' creature but he don' bite."

"Sorry to bother you…?"

"Rubeus Hagrid, jus' call me Hagrid."

"Hagrid. Um, I'm lost and I-uh, was wondering if you could show me back to the Hufflepuff common rooms?"

"Of course, jus' le' me feed the creatures firs'."

Grabbing a bucket, he headed for the door. Allen, curious, also followed.

Just behind the hut was a ditch full of...worms?

"Flobberworms," Hagrid informed, "they eat cabbage and lettuce."

Allen silently watched as Hagrid emptied the bucket of vegetation into the ditch, the flobberworms eagerly chewing away.

"No' very exciting creatures, but magical nonetheless."

"What do they do?"

"They make flobberworm mucus, ya know, used in potions 'n stuff."

 _("Wha's a firs' year like you doin' out so early?"_

" _Oh, just doing a light jog before class.")_

 _September 2, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Charms Class_

His first class is Charms.

"In this class, I'll be teaching you how to add certain properties onto objects."

"The first charm we'll be learning is the levitation charm."

"The incantation is 'Wingardium Leviosa', say it with me,"

" _Wingardium Leviosa,"_ the class parrots.

They watch in awe as the feather in front of their professor lifts effortlessly off the table with a flick of a wand.

Allen looks at the feather before him, he lifts his wand and gives it a try.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" nothing happens.

His face flushes slightly, but he calms down when he realises that the others are facing the same problem.

"Don't look so down," the professor says to the class, "it takes multiple tries."

He watches more carefully at the professor's demonstration. The subtlety in the movement, and the slight nuances in his speech.

"Win _gar_ dium Levi _o_ sa." And it moves.

It doesn't quite float like the professor's, but it moves slightly, and it's enough to know that it isn't just the wind. A smile blossoms, and something akin to proudness flitters in his chest.

 _(by the end of the class, he manages to lift it a few centimeters off the desk)_

 _September 2, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Transfigurations_

His next class was Transfigurations with the Gryffindors. Upon learning this, he was positively excited. He hadn't seen Lily and Snape the entire day so far, and he was excited to at least see one of them.

Scurrying to his class, he follows the crowd of Hufflepuffs before he sees a group of Gryffindors, and most importantly: Lily.

"Lily!" He calls out with a smile.

The ginger looks back at him with an excited grin and eagerly greets him with frantic waves.

"How's Hufflepuff, Allen?"

"Everyone's really nice! How's Gryffindor?"

"Loud," she scoffs, "but not unfriendly."

They share a grin.

* * *

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

There is silence in the class, the atmosphere is tense before the professor begins to write on the board.

"Take out your parchments, we will be taking notes. Please pay attention, these are important for both your safety and others."

As much as Allen tries to decipher what he's writing, he's not completely sure he's truly comprehending the words. He looks over to Lily who seems just as lost, but focused, and he lets out a sigh.

Eventually, the practical side of transfiguration begins.

Parchments are moved to the side, and in front of them is a matchstick.

"You will be turning these matchsticks into needles."

"The key is to imagine; to visualise the matchstick turning into a needle in your mind, and patience."

At first, nothing happens. There are frustrated groans resounding in the room, but Allen thinks he's got it. He tries to imagine his Innocence and how his arm would slowly turn into a sword and he uses that analogy for the matchstick. He's pointing his wand as he imagines a matchstick slowly sharpening. The thin wood becoming silver, the ends sharp-

"Oh my god, Allen that's amazing!" Lily stares at the needle with wide eyes, holding it up and examining it as if she can't believe what's in front of her.

"Well done, Mr. Walker." The professor looks at him with a proud look.

"Five points to Hufflepuff." And she walks off to help the others.

"How'd you do it?" Lily asks.

Allen sheepishly scratches the back of his head, "I did what Professor Mcgonagall said; picture it in my mind."

The other pouts but attempts it.

"Think about it in steps, Lily."

"Try to imagine the wood turning silver, getting thinner, you get what I mean?"

It takes a while, but it works.

"I just turned a matchstick into a needle."

"Yes you did."

" _I just turned a matchstick into a needle."_

"I can see that."

" _Oh my god."_

 _("Is she okay?" A boy with brown hair sitting in the row in front of them asks._

" _I think? She's just...a little excited."_

" _A little." Allen awkwardly smiles._

 _They laugh._

" _Remus Lupin," He says._

" _Allen Walker.")_

 _September 2, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Grand Hall_

Dinner comes with relief. He's chatting with a few people on his table when he locks eyes with Severus from across the room. He offers a small wave and smile, not surprisingly, the boy doesn't wave back, but there's a flash of acknowledgment in his eyes.

He sees Severus mumble something, and then, " _was your day good?"_ reaches his ears.

Allen blinks. It was so quiet, he barely heard it, but there was no mistaking it. It was Severus. He nods, and the boy flinches, as if not expecting to be heard.

'Bloody hell,' he thinks, 'it shouldn't be starting so soon…'

He briefly wonders if it's the effect of being reborn with the same conscience, when normally the conscience wouldn't arrive until later.

He blames the Fourteenth.

* * *

 _(When he arrives at his dorm, he looks at the bed with slight fear._

 _He doesn't want to relieve it.)_

 **oOoOoOo**

 **Author's Note: This is not edited. Like, it's been skimmed over, might re-upload just because.**


	4. IV: Iustum

**~DOING A NUMBER 2~**

* * *

c-h-a-p-t-e-r f-o-u-r

* * *

 **Summary: He really shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a Noah after all; reincarnation was inevitable…Just not a hundred years later into the future, with a letter addressed to his exact location…In a public bathroom. Set in Marauders' Era.**

* * *

 **Author's note: Wow it's the author with commitment issues-I'm back. For how long? Who knows. To be honest I wrote this on a whim, because I had time. Hope it's good though-not edited.**

* * *

 _\- September 2, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Slytherin Common Room -_

 _ **Severus Snape**_

The Slytherin common room, Severus notes, is _cold_. There's a certain chill that permeates the room located down in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The atmosphere is almost unforgivingly cold despite the green flame situated against the wall not too far off from his figure-but nothing was as cold as the expressions of those already there; eyeing the first years with uncaring, and judgemental scrutiny.

Severus feels a shiver roll down his spine.

It's when he's at his own bed, curtains drawn, and once again lost in his own mind, that he recalls a certain albino _friend_. That despite being exposed to magic since childhood, there was nothing more odd than Allen Walker who seemed to be able to hear even the faintest of sounds.

 _("Did you hear that?" Lavender eyes flitting across the landscape._

" _No-?"_

" _Oh...Don't worry I must have been imagining things." He'd laughed it off, but Snape would follow his trail of vision, which seemed to be locked on a small butterfly as if that had been the source of the alleged noise.)_

Of course, it did not change his perception of the other; he was still the ( _disgustingly_ , Severus adds) kind individual whose smiles were as radiant as the sun itself-but it _fascinated_ him. It piqued slight interest within himself, a person who'd read and read about magic itself, countless scrolls and books, yet _none_ could define _how_ such abilities to that degree could be natural? There were no spells, no charms-nothing involved.

There was also nothing in the books that could explain how _old_ those lavender orbs seemed to reflect.

To him, Allen was an oddity, from the day Lily and him had found the other by their usual spot to this very moment-he was _different_.

 _(He recalls the knowing, patient smiles fitted on a pale face.)_

And he thinks, he doesn't mind.

 _\- September 3, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Potions Room -_

 _ **Allen Walker**_

Potions, Allen figured, was not his forte.

With aggressive sweat, shaky hands, and an erratic heartbeat-

 _BOOM!_

He winces.

Beside him is his Hufflepuff partner who looks just as shocked as he is, and Allen does his best to give his most apologetic look. Luckily, the other dismisses his apology with a concerned smile-however, he hadn't been left unscathed as his hands were littered with sweltering boils.

Allen exasperatedly sighs.

* * *

He's sat at the infirmary, and he almost marvels at how uncanny it appeared to be with Black Order's own. At the edge of one of the lined beds, eyes drift towards a few other students mostly hidden away by white curtains.

"Potion for boils, Mr. Walker?" Attention back towards the nurse, Allen sheepishly grins in slight embarrassment.

The woman huffs at him; disapproving of his carelessness.

He watches as the red disappears, the soreness becoming nothing but a fleeting memory-his head snaps back up to the other before him with awed eyes (to which she chuckles).

"Thank you, Madam…?"

"Pomfrey," she finishes, "do be careful next time, will you?"

Allen grins, "no promises."

A loud bang of the infirmary doors signal the arrival of another student, who walks in with a pained expression and tattered robes. There's a sigh to his right and a quiet mutter of ' _it's only the third day',_ before Madam Pomfrey is by the other student's side with quick, swift steps.

He huffs a small laugh.

 _\- September 3, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Training Grounds -_

 _ **Allen Walker**_

Flying felt surreal to him. Of course, their first lesson had only allowed them to stay stationary close to the ground, but it still was very reminiscent of his time in the air. Of when he'd leap across rooftops to rooftops-and for a split moment he thinks: ' _Lenalee would've loved this_.'

The class is shared with Ravenclaws who'd intermingled with the rest of the Hufflepuffs, chatting animatedly with each other. Allen smiles at his peers from the air, and he gives a wave to others on the ground who looked his way.

His gaze follows the sky, small birds in the distance flying by, and he feels a light breeze run through his white locks-and he thinks about how he'd _love_ to soar through the endless blue one day.

 _\- September 4, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Courtyard -_

 _ **Allen Walker**_

It's the weekend and Allen is relieved. He's lounging on the grass, using Severus' (unwilling) lap as a pillow, as the three of them relish a day of no classes and no responsibility.

"Potions has _got_ to be my favourite class so far-" Lily chattering away to the two, Severus listening intently, and Allen almost dozes off.

The ambient sounds of the outside are precious to him; surreal, dream-like. The rustling of leaves, and the soft tweets of birds-the occasional footsteps of passing students, and the accompanying indistinguishable chatter-were like a melody lulling him into a deep sleep.

'Snivellus' was not a melody.

Lavender eyes snap open, acutely blinded by light temporarily, he sits up and his vision adjusts to reveal two familiar faces. A mop of brown hair and black hair, dark eyes for both, and most importantly, the smug and taunting faces have never appeared more _punchable_.

' _Merlin give me strength.'_

"Look who crawled out of the snake's den-"

"-Poor, little Snivellus."

Lily was unamused.

"Could you both go away? Don't you have better things to do?" She snaps.

"Better things? I'm helping you out. Snakes like Snivellus should stay in their den."

Allen was not awake enough for this.

"If you don't hurry up and run along, the only one crawling here is going to be _you_ crying for your mother." Eyes turn to his now standing figure.

Eyes glinting mischievously, the black-haired male speaks up, "Walker, you're even _tinier_ than Snivellus, what are you going to d-"

Sirius yelps.

 _\- September 4, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: McGonagall's Office -_

 _ **Allen Walker**_

"Detention for both of you, monday night at my office."

Sirius jumps first to protest, " _Detention?!_ _It was his fault! He assaulted me-"_

" _Wow_ , I never knew that was in your vocabulary-"

"-I swear I will-"

"-What? Get beat up again?"

Yelling ensues.

* * *

Saturdays were not breaks for professors, but they were the closest thing to one throughout a usually busy week. McGonagall had just finished preparing lessons and marking student work, and was just headed for a quick stroll under the sun. That is, until-

" _Professor!_ There are two students fighting at the courtyard!"

Merlin, help her.

 _\- September 6, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Charms (Classroom 2E) -_

 _ **Allen Walker**_

Charms had been the last class of the day and he leaves the class feeling good, having successfully casted a lumos charm; the bright light illuminating from the tip of his wand, had certainly highlighted the gleeful look on his professor's face.

So when he's out of the class, and on his way back to his common room, he's certainly not expecting one of his housemates (to which he couldn't recall their name) to remind him of his detention.

"Walker? Don't you have detention with Professor McGonagall?"

"Eh?"

He's no longer in a good mood.

 _\- September 6, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Library -_

 _ **Allen Walker**_

The first thing Allen does is send a dry look back towards a scowling Sirius, and vehemently rolls his eyes at the other's immaturity. The professor had situated their detention in the library where they would help Irma Pince sort the books _without_ magic.

"Now, I expect all these books to be put back in their correct place," she gestures to a _mountain_ of books and Allen briefly wonders if they had just took all these down from the shelves right beforehand on purpose.

"No magic- _Go._ "

There's an absolutely exasperated groan to his left, and Allen promptly ignores it, choosing to get started.

 _Winogrand's Wondrous Water Plants_ by _Selina Sapworthy_

Time passes, with the continuous aggravating noises of complaint from Sirius-yet are _still_ nowhere near complete with their sorting.

Another groan.

"Black," Allen punctuates, "you should be _grateful_."

Sirius gives him an appalled look.

"This is the closest thing to expanding that limited vocabulary of yours."

"You fucking-"

" _SILENCE!"_

The two flinch at the loud voice of Pince extensively heightened by the vast space of the library. Instead, Sirius settles for an accusing glare and an annoyed scoff. For a moment they are quiet.

"Why do you even care?" Allen sends the other a confused look, "about _Snivellus_?"

"Severus." Allen corrects, bitterly.

"Whatever." He rolls his eyes, but decides to humour him.

"Why shouldn't I? He's my _friend_."

Sirius almost laughs. "Some kind friend you have there."

"Oh, bugger off-He's _nice_."

A disbelieving expression makes its way on the black-haired boy's face; eyes wide, mouth agape, and eyebrows askew.

"Didn't seem like it at all."

"That's because you're a dick."

"Do you want to get hexed-"

"- _Can you shut your trap_?"

There's a silence between the two as they cautiously turn their heads to look over their shoulders, checking warily for the librarian-who had, fortunately, not heard a thing and remained immersed in the thick, leather-bound book held tightly in her hands.

"I don't even get why you're so mean to him, he insulted Gryffindor like once."

Sirius purses his lips, as if frustrated at the other's lack of understanding.

"Don't you get it?" He asks, impatience dripping from his voice.

"Get what? Verbal abuse? No."

Sirius makes a disgusted noise, "he's a Slytherin-They're all slimy bastards."

There's a dull ache forming in his head. "You're so ignorant."

"You're stupid."

"You're small-minded."

"You're-"

Another violent ' _shush!'_ radiates throughout the large room and the two grumble in response.

"I hate you."

"Well, the feeling's mutual."

Apart from the occasional protest from Sirius, the rest of the detention is silent. Allen is exhausted, and silently prays that the librarian won't do a thorough check of their sorting-he doesn't have enough faith in the other to actually do the task correctly.  
Without a word, lavender eyes fall on the other tucking books away into their respective shelf with more strength than necessary.

Briefly, he wonders if they'd ever see eye to eye-if Allen could put an end to his bigoted thoughts.

As if feeling the stare, Sirius turns and ebony orbs stare back.

"What're you looking at, shorty?"

Allen retracts his former thoughts.

* * *

 **Author's note: It'd be really great to see more crossovers but during the Marauder's era. (mostly because I really want that AU but I can't do justice to it). :cc Is this fandom even alive? I don't even know anymore, its been so long. This is another short chapter, but, oh well, I hope it suffices. I just wanted to self-indulge in some good ol banter. :cccc**


	5. V: Prope

**Doing A Number 2**

* * *

Chapter Five

* * *

 _Summary:_ He really shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a Noah after all; reincarnation was inevitable…Just not a hundred years later into the future, with a letter addressed to his exact location…In a public bathroom. Set in Marauders' Era.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Please see bottom author's note!_

* * *

 _Hi Mum, dad,_

 _Hogwarts has been most amazing, I've been sorted in Hufflepuff and they've been the nicest people. Though I can't say the same for Sev and Lily (heavy emphasis on Sev's part). Sorry dad for not sharing your old house, Gryffindor, though I can't say that I'm disappointed-to little offence; they seem a little too rowdy and I've met a few that turned out to be quite (to the distraught of both parents, 'arseholes' is blotched with ink)._

 _It's only been a month, but it feels like its been years. I miss you both. How have you been?_

 _Missing you,_

 _Allen Walker_

An almost yearning sigh lingers in the air as pale eyes watch the fleeting figure of a white owl in the distance. Head rested in folded arms placed comfortably on the windowsill of the owlery. His days in Hogwarts have begun to settle with a sense of familiarity, nevertheless, still exciting and filled with something new around the corner. However, he can't help feel a bit melancholic. Somewhat lonely at times. With their varying houses, Allen shared little classes with Lily and Severus. Though he knew not to complain, after all, he still had many years to go at Hogwarts and he would always be around them during breaks.

Berating himself, he quickly stands without warning, shocking a few owls out of their still nature with furious fluttering of feathers-he has potions, he states with overwhelming dread.

( _If he accidentally adds an extra flobberworm into the cauldron, and proceeds to accidentally stir the wrong way—he simply averts his eyes away from his partner's accusing stares)_

* * *

 _October 12, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Hogwarts Halls_

Allen is not a resentful person. In his countless years of being alive, he's learned how to forgive, to be kind, be generous and patient-he _perseveres_. So when he rounds the corner to the Great Hall in time for break and witnesses Severus being shoved by the infamous duo he has regretfully come to know, he does _exactly_ what he's learned.

He _doesn't_ forgive, he _isn't_ kind, _isn't_ generous and most importantly, has run out of patience.

"Forgetting that lovely bruise I left on your face did you, _Black_?"

Sirius Black is a refined (read: rowdy), pureblood (read: not extremist), brave and courageous Gryffindor. So when he hears the familiar voice of the most annoying Hufflepuff he's ever had the displeasure of meeting, he _absolutely_ does _not_ flinch. The room does _not_ drop in temperature, and his brain does _not_ fire off alarms in panic.

He's a Gryffindor. Obviously.

"Why," he drawls, "I would recall if such a thing happened."

"How unfortunate, it seems I've caused you sudden amnesia."

" _Hardly._ "

"Brain damage too."

Sirius notes (with certainty) that Allen Walker is, without a doubt, the biggest prick; and has been for the whole of September and it didn't seem like it would be stopping any time soon.

* * *

Sirius Black is an _absolute_ prick the way Allen sees him. Him, and his other friends (though less with Lupin and Pettigrew, more so with that _git_ James Potter). So, with deliberately intimidating steps that seemed borderline stalking, a cold glint that made his eyes appear paler than it was, Allen was closing the distance with a demeanour that made even Severus question why he hadn't been sorted into Slytherin.

"We're just giving what the snakes deserve." And _of course_ James Potter had to pipe up with what he considered to be a valid defence. Even more unsurprising is Sirius Black, the complete Potter goon, nodding in agreement with a smirk just as smug.

"Oh please," Allen rolls his eyes, "you're just a righteous arsehole."

Almost as if it had been an afterthought, he adds, " _Flipendo_."

When the two fall on their behinds a foot away, and the scattering of loose parchment and toppled books, the outright shocked if not mad looks on their faces makes it difficult for Severus to hold in his own laughter (instead there's mirth uncommon in his normally blank, dark eyes).

"Next time, I'm hexing your knees backwards." Hiding his own amusement, his eyes trail towards the approaching figures of Lupin and Pettigrew. "Do make sure they sod off for good, thanks." The aforementioned can only nod (if not a bit fearfully) as they help the other two off the ground.

"Let's go find Lily."

Allen is happily tugging Severus into the Great Hall by the sleeve, when he smiles in what could perhaps be mischief. " _Flipendo._ "

If there had been an all too familiar cry of shock, heavy thuds on the ground, and a voice yelling ' _Walker'_ —well, he politely ignored it and shut the door of the Great Hall behind him.

* * *

 _October 17, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Library_

He's sitting at a nondescript table in the corner of the library, choosing one by the window where the rare instance of sunlight pours through it. The orange of the autumn leaves have settled in heaps on the ground, and aimlessly he watches as a few other first years he could put no name to, eagerly took turns in the midst of golden and auburn.

Turning his attention towards the leatherbound book in front of him, pages opened to somewhere halfway, he lazily turned to the next page. After his newfound discovery or possible growing likeness of the subject Transfiguration, he had a copy of _Intermediate Transfiguration_ owled to him. What had caught his eye, of course, had been the topic on Animagi. Of course, he had no particular use for it, and he could not really see any use in the nearby future other than entertainment, however, if one thing was for sure, he needed to have more cards up his sleeve.

Absently, the white quill on his hand took another note on animagi transformations. Admittedly, he'd stolen this idea from Severus, after seeing his extensive notes in his textbooks (though exclusively to potions and dark arts), Allen adopted this through a small leather journal. The cover, of course, was a simple dark leather, the book itself held together by a satin ribbon adjourned with a small yellow topaz.

In the future, he'd have to find an extendable pages charm for it, to which he would be able to add pages. Though in that case he'd also need a charm that didn't let the journal become too thick...He adds another note.

He was sitting alone at the library, having parted ways with Severus and Lily for the break so that he could work on his personal project. He'd lost track of time and his heavy eyes began to droop whilst the sunlight acting as a warm blanket had begun to lull him into sleep. Fitfully shaking his head of the tiredness, he moved to put away the textbook he'd borrowed-when something appeared below it.

 _Transfiguration Today Edition 2579_

He held the magazine in his hand, attention focused entirely on it, and the textbook long forgotten. His eyes scan the page. Dumbledore had written his own excerpt, as well as someone named Arsenius Jigger who had tackled the difference between _Lycanthropy_ and _werewolfry_.

"Which locution better describes the werewolves?" As interesting as it was, he didn't exactly need that information.

The sound of a chair being pulled back draws his attention.

Just a few tables in front of him, Remus Lupin had sat down, with various parchment and textbooks to which Allen could only assume was homework (perhaps it was the History of Magic essay he'd yet to do).

Nonetheless, Allen rolled his shoulders attempting to remove the kinks, tucked away the books and magazine into their respective spots amongst the towering shelves of the library.

Then, upon returning to his seat, he let his eyelids fall, his breaths began to even, and with little thought he's sound asleep for the remainder of the break.

* * *

 _To our Little Angel,_

 _While your dad is a bit put out for not sharing his house, he states verbatim, "Well I trust the hat—kids are dumb and know nothing". That aside, we are definitely not happy about your language, young man! Blotching the cursed word with ink can't erase the evidence._

 _All in all, we've been well. Remember the garden we were trying to grow? Most of the plants are on their way to growth—I'm sure they'll be in full bloom once you come back home for the break. We miss you very much._

 _Stay safe,_

 _Father & Mother_

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: Hey, I haven't, technically, abandoned this story and I won't. Though, I was wondering if yall could give me ideas? Perhaps certain scenes you want to see or something. I actually have a lot I want to include in this, but the issue is that they all appear in later Hogwarts years, but I also don't want to time skip so soon? I want to build more of a relationship between the characters, almost like a slow burn but on character dynamics? I think this is mostly the reason it's hard to update or even write at all, because of all the filling in between these ideas (although school's another problem but I only have a few months left until I'm done forever thank god). If you have any ideas, or main events crucial to the actual marauder's era please comment!**_


	6. VI: Posterus

**Doing A Number 2**

* * *

Chapter Six

* * *

 _Summary: He really shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a Noah after all; reincarnation was inevitable. Just not a hundred years later into the future with a letter addressed to his exact location…In a public bathroom. Set in Marauders' Era._

* * *

 _Author's Note: VERY IMPORTANT NOTE AT BOTTOM PLS READ_

* * *

 _November 6, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Hallway_

It's during the quidditch season that Allen can feel the animosity in the air; pure, unfiltered house rivalry. Albeit his thoughts on small rivalry being healthy, he does not appreciate it when people are harmed.

He's only a first year with little experience and knowledge, he knows this very well of course, and he knows he's most likely out of his league. Yet when his eyes catch sight of a group of Slytherin and Gryffindor students throwing spells in the hallway, and a few Hufflepuffs caught in between the crossfire (one was sobbing on the floor with a curse that's erupted multitudes of painful, burning boils across her hands and face), he does the only thing he can and incapacitates the closest to him (which had been a Gryffindor who had obviously not expected being tackled to the ground by a significantly smaller individual). The shock gave Allen enough time to knock a few of the students over with _flipendo_.

"Stupefy!" He'd barely had enough time to dodge the ray of light that whizzed passed his head, catching a few stray hairs in his movement. His small and inexperienced limbs had caught the end of his own robe causing him to stumble, but quick recovery allowed him to mirror the nondescript Slytherin, thus sending a successful stupefy.

Allen speeds towards him in order to take custody of the wand, and he steps cautiously in front of the two Hufflepuffs on the ground. At this point he's pointing two wands at the two remaining students who'd started the quarrel. The three were at a stalemate, and begun to create distance. Sweat dripped from his brow, knowing his next move may not work.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" He cried as he sent the Gryffindor flying into the Slytherin, both falling unconscious as he turned to the Hufflepuffs.

They had been slightly older than him, perhaps third years, nonetheless he'd knelt down with them. The girl had been a brunette whose eyes were red from sobbing, looking down he gently took hold of her boil covered hands and suppressed the urge to wince. They were sweltering red and enlarged to the point of looking like they could burst at any moment. She wouldn't be able to even hold her wand during that fight to protect herself. Tears still streamed down her caramel eyes, and he moved his hands to wipe the tears with small hushes.

For once in a long time, he'd felt his true age.

"We'll get you to Madam Pomfrey, don't worry…" The girl could only nod.

The other was on the ground, a male with ebony hair, Allen wasn't a health expert so he'd have to relocate them fast before the unconscious students woke up. He stood up quickly, and took the liberty of confiscating their wands and shoving them in his pocket. As of now, he didn't know how to tie them up with a spell, so this would have to do. Then, he lifted the unconscious Hufflepuff with magic, and the girl followed by his side.

When they reached the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey was already on their tail, and set them aside for inspection. "What happened?!"

"Students fighting in the hallway, their crossfire injured these two." Allen informed almost instantly.

The nurse let out a frustrated noise. "Dunderheads, the lot of them!"

"Go inform a professor, quickly now!" She ushers Allen out, and the latter complies without reluctance.

McGonagall would've been the closest professor so he rushes to the oakwood doors of her office and does not do her the courtesy of knocking, instead, simply opens the door in a hurry.

"Mr. Walker? Please knock—"

"Professor, students had been fighting in the Hallway." In an instance, her gaze hardens and she nods, looking just seconds away from cursing.

Allen directs her to the students just a few corridors down, who'd slowly begun to stir into consciousness. He watches as her eyes turn to steel, and a firm expression that clearly exuded disappointment and anger formed.

"Detention all of you! To my office, and that's 50 points docked off of each and every one of you!" There's outrage but not unprecedented, however her demeaning presence mostly keeps them in line.

Accusatory eyes turn to him, "He took our wands!"

Then a speculative look from McGonagall is sent his way.

"He's the one who attacked us!" A Gryffindor with bright blonde hair exclaims.

Allen urges himself to not roll his eyes, "It was obviously to stop all you from causing more damage—be glad I didn't even hex you."

"All of you to my office. _Now!_ " A few grumbles but they eventually follow the professor, "You as well Mr. Walker."

"What—" He stops himself, and reluctantly follows.

* * *

 _November 6, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: McGonagall's Office_

The office was finally cleared of the students, however Allen was asked to stay behind, it's at this moment that he sits across the professor's intensive gaze.

"You'll be serving a night's detention with me, Mr. Walker." Silence.

"With all due respect ma'am," he doesn't exactly understand why he was being punished (though a night isn't exactly that much of a punishment), "but I don't understand? I did what I did to help my housemates who could have been further injured."

Something flashes in her eyes, something so quick and perhaps a little foreign to Allen, he doesn't know if it had been pride.

"Yes, I know."

"So why—"

"Because even with your good intentions, you still attacked your fellow students. While they were not harmed too badly, it could have been worse. You sent a fellow student flying into another, and both had been an inch away from getting their heads knocked against a stone pillar." Allen's pale eyes widened with realisation, and began to form a sense of guilt as they drop to his hands on his lap.

"These actions, regardless of intention, need some type of retribution. There are more than one way of dealing with opponents, Mr. Walker." There's a pause.

"Though, I would say that was very Gryffindor of you." When Allen's head rises, he sees McGonagall smiling gently at him. She may not be his Head of House, but here Allen could clearly see it; the pride in her dark eyes. "It was also very Hufflepuff, your Head of House would be proud."

He grins, brighter than ever and he rises out of his chair in glee.

"Your detention is Friday night, do not forget." And if Allen's demeanour falls slightly, and he begins to pout instead, well, McGonagall stops herself from laughing.

"Good day, Professor."

"You're an idiot."

Allen whines in protest, "But Severus—"

"Allen," Lily admonishes, "you could've been hurt!"

"I'm fine! No injuries—"

"You didn't even check with Madam Pomfrey!"

"Listen to Lily, Allen."

"But—"

"You have to be more careful!"

"Okay, _mum!_ "

"You'd better listen to your mother, young man!"

The three burst into laughter.

* * *

 _November 7, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Courtyard_

Allen had just finished his morning jogging routine, when he stops by the Gamekeeper's hut. The half-giant turns around from patting the canine, and his coal eyes shine in recognition.

"Ah! Walker! C'mere, how've ya been?" Allen grins up at him.

"I've been well," the pair enter the hut.

"Wha' were we up ta?"

Allen pauses in thought, "I think it was the Bowtruckles?"

"Think tha'd be mor' of a Professor Kettleburn lesson." Allen shakes his head in response.

" _Hagrid_ ," he drawls, "you know he's in the hospital wing... _again_."

"Fine, ha' it your way."

* * *

 _November 11, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Hufflepuff Common Room_

It's when Allen is about to leave for his inevitable detention that he's confronted by a pair of familiar housemates.

"A-Allen, was it?" The girl starts, fidgeting in her spot, eyes shying away as though they were undecided whether to stare at him eye to eye or rooted to the ground.

"Yes that's me," he makes sure his tone is soft and it seems to calm the girl in front of him, "I'm sorry, but I never caught your names…?"

"O-Oh, it's uh—" The girl looks like a deer in headlights as she stammers, and she's looking back and forth between him and the other Hufflepuff as if the other would save her sudden loss of words. Allen laughs.

"Well, this mess over here is Emma Miller," the other teases and the aforementioned, Emma, snaps her gaze back at the ebony haired Puff in flustered betrayal, ferverently growing red, "I'm Oliver Williams."

Allen exchanges handshakes with the two, finally meeting officially instead of the dangerous fiasco that it had been beforehand.

"Well, how can I help you two?" He asks before adding, "I could go hex those involved if that's what you need."

Their eyes widen, and Oliver grins, "Oh, would you be so kind, sir?"

They fall into laughter (though Allen really would if they wished).

"W-We just wanted to thank you," and there's a form of sincerity in Emma's voice that makes Allen beam, "for helping us, even though you're a lot younger."

"I would do it again in a heartbeat."

 _(As the first year walks away, the two are left awed. For a moment they had seen not a first year, but someone older than they were; wiser, braver and kinder.)_

* * *

 _November 11, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: McGonagall's Office_

"Good evening, Mr. Walker." The professor guided him towards his seat in front of her.

"To you as well," he greeted, "what will I be doing…?"

His question is greeted with silence, and he watches as pieces of parchment are levitated along with a quill and ink in front of him. Accompanied with this is a thick transfiguration textbook; the one he'd been reading at the library.

"You'll be copying lines from this. Of course, no magic. You'll do this for the hour."

Without any protest, he writes. Minutes pass by, and he isn't really paying attention to the time anymore, and while he'd already read this area of the book about animagus, he can't help but feel that same unrestrained interest.

…

McGonagall has been considered a genius and absolutely remarkable at transfiguration in her years at Hogwarts. It's what she's known for, and she was fortunate to have Albus Dumbledore as her mentor, who taught her to embrace this talent and encouraged her to pursue more than what the school could offer.  
Allen Walker is a small first year, even for his age, with white hair, and dazzling, pale violet eyes—he's becoming known for his bright smiles and exceptional kindness. She even suspects that he'll become known as the school's sweetheart given the next few years, judging from many students' growing fondness of the boy, who she notes with amusement, treats everyone equally.

Perhaps it was a product of being exposed to a new environment? Unaware of the traditions heavily rooted in the magical society, either way the boy showed no house rivalry or bias. He was polite to all, and handed consequences to students he deemed deserved it no matter what house, blood or family they were in.  
His unlikely friendship with Severus Snape and Lily Evans also stood out in her mind, and perhaps, to many others. That even when the boy, Snape, was growing closer with his Slytherin housemates, and Lily with her own, the boy treated them no different, was no less distant, as well as no judgement for their choices.  
She thinks of all the times Allen Walker quarrels with James Potter and his group of friends in defence of his own—that for all the bravery, cunningness, and wisdom he displayed, McGonagall could see most clearly that this boy was truly a Hufflepuff.

When she takes a glance of the first year, attention being lifted from her own task of grading papers, she sees eyes that are lit with whirling, uncontrollable interest—and she has a feeling. Allen Walker, a first year who has proven to be more than simply satisfactory in her class, has piqued her interest. Call it intuition, but there's something akin to an untapped potential, an unpolished gem, something _much_ _greater_ —She's not a Ravenclaw, but she wants to know.

Minerva McGonagall wants to witness the lengths this boy will go.

"You seem to be fixated on Animagi."

Allen flinches in surprise, suddenly taken out of his dazed stupor. He realises he hasn't been writing lines, and instead was simply absorbing the words of a book he had already read. "That I am." He feels slightly exposed under her (what could be seen as) scrutiny.

"Do you want to become one?" It's this that causes Allen to snap his head up to meet his Professor's gaze.

He licks his lips uncertainly, "...I do."

"I could teach you."

"You could what—?" With slight awe and horror, Allen was transfixed at the sight of McGonagall morphing; watches as dark hair—fur—grew all over her body, her form was shrinking, ears and tails sprouting, and eyes narrowing.

His professor was an Animagi; a sleek, black cat.

"You should close your mouth, Mr. Walker." She'd quickly morphed back into human.

"C-Could you teach me?" She nods.

"Though, you'll have to wait until you're older."

It was a line that sent a wave of heavy disappointment coursing through his body. Of course, he understood, it could easily be one of the most dangerous practices—he could be unable to transform back, or even stuck halfway—but that didn't stop the disappointment.

It was as if McGonagall sensed this because she added, "But I can help you advance your transfiguration if you wished, and when I've deemed you ready, I will guide you through to becoming an Animagus."

"You...You'd be my mentor?"

"If you'd like."

Minerva would be a fool to stare directly at the sun, but here she was—the boy was blinding. Even as she told him he could talk to her if he ever had questions, and to come back the same time the week after for a lesson—as she watches the boy get up from his seat (detention long over) expressing his gratitude as calmly as he could (though his excitement was quite obviously coursing through him like adrenaline)—she could not find it in her to regret it.

Allen Walker, the first year exiting another detention, had become her protégé.

* * *

 _June, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Hogwarts_

It was exam week for Hogwarts. Lily had been an anxious wreck, but Allen knew she'd do fine (well, more than fine). Severus, like usual, showed indifference, though the albino could tell otherwise. He, himself, was reasonably confident, or at least, the subjects that _weren't_ potions. Prior to this, he'd come crying to the two about how he was going to flunk potions, and begged them to teach him how to make one even remotely decent.

Like the good friends they were (Albeit, Severus calling him a dunderhead) they'd taught him in the potions classroom. After having explicit permission from Professor Slughorn to use it who'd been utmost... _Reluctant_ , eyeing the albino with caution, his promising potions students had coerced him through the comfort of the idea that the albino would _finally_ learn how to make a potion that would _not_ explode (for once).

 _("Just follow the instructions, Allen!" Severus' eyebrows twitched._

" _I am!"_

" _You're not!"_

" _Life's just against me!"_

" _You—"_

" _Down, boys." Two huffs resounded.)_

When the results came, the three cheered. Unsurprisingly, he completed Transfigurations with flying colours, and he, to the alarm of most students, tackled McGonagall in a hug. His second-best had been charms (he guessed all those magical duels in the halls did wonders), and most importantly, he _passed_ potions (exactly at the borderline, but he wasn't picky).

 _("A pass is a pass."_

" _Absolutely ridiculous…")_

The end-of-feast was a grand event, students had been at their tables chatting loudly with all the renewed vigour that had been at the beginning of the year. Dumbledore rose and had begun to make his speech as the candles floated silently whilst illuminating the high ceiling of the night sky. Every student was on the edge as the House Cup points were being announced and then the winner—

" _Ravenclaw with 762 points!"_

Dumbledore raised his hands and the banners that had been previously rolled up, unravelled into an enchanting blue. The deafening roars of the Ravenclaw table spoke volumes beyond the congratulatory cheers of the other houses.

"We'll see each other next year."

"Don't forget to write, especially you Severus."

"We'll be seeing each other outside of Hogwarts, what's the point?"

" _Sev…_ "

"...Fine."

* * *

 _June, 1971 Age 11, Whereabouts: Home_

"Welcome back, little angel."

It feels like a dream.

"I'm home."

.

.

.

 **Author's Note:** Dished out another chapter in less than a year and it's longer (not by much but still), are you proud? BAHAHA, well don't expect the next chapter to be so soon, I just had a random urge to write this chapter. That concludes Year One though, Year Two is gonna be wild, probably. Also, on the topic of Animagus, what do you think Allen's form will be? Like, give me suggestions. I have a few forms that I'm leaning towards but I'm not sure either. I wanted it to be a surprise, but I'm lost as hell right now so welp. Anyways, the ones I'm leaning towards and why are:

- _Hippogriff (represents that proud nature, not sure abt this one though)_

 _\- Wampus (If he ever does interact with Lupin's werewolf form, it'd be easier to calm him down in this form + powerful)_

 _\- Kneazle (it's not too absurd, magical but common, easy blending, and also, they're known to "guide" people home [it would be symbolic as Allen will have a prominent role in guiding people], and are good judge of characters & they're just cute)_

 _\- Occamy (Again easy to calm Lupin, can change size, but idk about this one, probably not this one I'm just biased coz they're pretty, fun fact: they can speak parselmouth, idk if that'll be relevant at all though)_

From that I'll probably go with either a kneazle or wampus, but please give me suggestions from both his form and the question in the previous chapter. Special thanks to everyone who did give me suggestions though, and even if I didn't include yours in this chapter, I'll most likely cover those in future chapters. In regards to the reviews though:

 _\- Will there be appearance of other noah?_ Nope. Maybe brief mentions, but they won't contribute to this story, because, it wouldn't make sense. Even if they did reincarnate, it takes the focus off the character development and on the actual Wizarding World.

 _\- Ships?_ All canon ships stay ofc, but in regards to ships with Allen, I'm not sure. I like the idea, esp. Sirius and Allen, but it really depends on how the story plays out in the future. So far I like the idea of just platonic relations right now—but you never know, war does cause people to rush into relationships as you never know when you'll get the chance :/

 _\- Appearance of innocence?_ I may write a scene on that, but again, like the noah, it won't be major. The whole issue of noah and innocence will probably just be there to flesh out the history of this universe.

Also, on the topic of history, noah and innocence. On the wiki on the Holy War, it apparently actually took place in the 1900s, which would make no sense. So I contemplated making Allen reincarnate into another world, but now that's just lazy. In the end I decided with pushing back the war to the 1800s and maybe even before? The reason being, is because Japan is supposed to be 90% akuma in d gray man, but that wouldn't work in the HP world. In saying that, I lined up the Holy War with the Edo Period of Japan. Since the 90% akuma is in "Edo" Japan according to the wiki. Which ended in 1868 or something like that, therefore the war would end at the same time to signify a "rebirth", and allow time for Japan's human population to come back.

In the beginning I made Allen die, but who's to say his friends died in that war? Exorcists from different branches would have lived to use up the rest of their lives, most likely, to eradicate the akuma. With no Millennium Earl, they won't be able to multiply. There's also a wizarding group in Japan, and since Japan was isolated during this time anyway, it wouldn't be so much of a stretch to say they were able to contain this part of history, as the other 10% of humans (not including wizards most likely) will be able to get their country back together. Even with akuma in the rest of the world, they all would've been used in the war anyway, most likely taking place in Japan since it's the base (therefore it could explain why the rest of the world just like, doesn't know shit.)

Also if you're lost on how Allen's able to reincarnate, Neah _was_ part of the Millennium Earl, for them to not reincarnate they have to be destroyed by the Heart of Innocence, none of them can be alive either (and allen didnt exactly destroy himself with the heart so...). So there's that. There's also the issue of if they ever do reincarnate, which they likely will—well, Allen's the Millennium Earl (or at least half) so he'd be able to reign them in.

There's still plot holes, I know, but this is the best I can do to rectify it.

P.S more suggestions to fill in the gaps of the main events please? It's hard since there's so little to go by in the Marauder's era.


	7. HELP PLEASE

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS ISN'T GOING TO BE ABANDONED OR HIATUS._**

Hi. Please help me. KSKSK Right now, I'm struggling with a certain plothole that I'm not sure how to remedy and unfortunately it's been stopping me from writing this story. The plothole originates from how Noah need to be killed? Apparently if even one Noah lives then the others can reincarnate?

I'm genuinely confused about how this works out, like, is it if you kill the Millennium Earl then all the Noah cease to reincarnate? if so, it wouldn't make sense for Allen to reincarnate...

Or is it that the Noah, like akuma, can only be killed with innocence in order to stop their reincarnation? while this would make sense for this story's case, as Allen isn't killed by innocence (he is a noah, so he would have to reincarnate) in canon, Neah killed all the Noah except road and the earl, thus proving that they can be killed by something other than innocence.

Furthermore, I feel like the characters would have known that they'd need to kill Allen with innocence or he'd had have to kill his own self? which makes this counterproductive—because then the noah would just reincarnate and kill again?

As you can see, I am lost as hell.

as I've mentioned I had exorcists live after the war (course they're dead now because its been hundreds of years) meaning I have scenes in regards to this. however, i'm unsure how to explain his reincarnation, logically. I probably don't need to think this hard but it's really bugging me.

if you all have any suggestions please help me out? review ideas or possibly dm me so we can work through it together?

THANKS


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